Why is Sirius Black such a jerk?
by strawn'flax
Summary: Alright. Yeah, I was one of those 'antisocial homeschooled kids'. That is, until my dad won the five year argument, and that was only because my mum started to read this book, Limericks For the Soul, or something and could only speak in rhymes.


_**Summary: **A_lright. Yeah, I was one of those 'anti-social homeschooled kids'. Until my dad won the five year argument, and that was only because my mum started to read this book, Limericks For the Soul, or something and could only speak in rhymes. And then couldn't answer because nothing rhymed with orange.

Disclaimer: Flax owns nothing, except Sam.

Chapter One

_Slam...Crash_...

"Hahaha, no really, she said _what_?"

"Leave me alone."

"Ugh...Come on."

_...Slam._

"I'll hex you so bad you won't be able to tell your elbows from your ears!"

These are the many sounds of wizarding school that are usually classified as background noise. They usually are accompanied by little bubbles stating dirty words, or a nasty smell that causes the students of Hogwarts to run through the halls with their robes pushed up to cover their nose. The student has to watch out for poltergeists, ghosts, walking suits of armor, trick steps, remember passwords and if they survive that, get through lessons and avoid nasty spells by fellow classmates. Most grew accustomed to it during their first year, making friends and enemies, finding their inner prankster, the like. I had two years to get accustomed to it.

_A_lright. Yeah, I was one of those 'anti-social home schooled kids'. Until my dad won the five year argument, and that was only because my mum started to read this book, Limericks for the Soul, or something and could only speak in rhymes. And she couldn't answer because nothing rhymed with orange. See, my dad attended and loved Hogwarts with a Passion, and my mum went to Beauxbatons. I got a letter from Hogwarts, and my dad won the bet (the bet which school I would go to). Only my mum, wouldn't give up that easy, she tried to get me into Beauxbatons, only they wouldn't except me, (something about being British and having as large a French vocabulary as a slug) but by them the Hogwarts year had started, and I couldn't come in late, so my mum started to home school me. Well, I was terribly upset, broke all her best china, but in the end, I gave in. Not my dad though, he was _furious_. He kept trying to trick her into letting me in. But my mother is a transfigured Snarklepuff, I swear, terribly stubborn.

This year though, he finally did it. He got me in. Took him about five years but better late then never, he told me with a wink as I got aboard the train. This was only because my mother bought a poem book from a second-hand book store, ("Eet is soooo much cheepeer, theez second 'and books.") and, as I said before, after she finished it she found she could only speak in rhymes. The St Mungo's wards say it may wear off eventually, but for now she's stuck until they find a cure. Well, considering she may have to speak in rhymes the rest of her life, she was really cheerful about it. "I always wanteed to speek like theeze _Shakespear. _Oh _non_, I've got a scratch on my ear." was what she had to say on it. That was before my clever 'leetle devil' dad couldn't get her to say "No! I've got to go hoe!" when he asked her if I could go. See, all he did was add "orange" on it ("Dearest darling fruitcake, can Sam go to Hogwarts this year, you little flowering orange?" I believe it was) and she couldn't rhyme anything with it. She was left gaping like a fish and charming books to beat my dad over the head. But he had won.

And here I was, walking down the twisting hallways to the headmaster's office. I ignored the stares but smiled at the occasional "hi". The term just started, and I'd only had a conversation no longer than two minutes with a person. Mind you, the summer holidays had just ended so everyone was too interested in their friend's haircuts to notice me. When I had first came, I got a few curious stares, then some genius decided I was the girl last year who lit Flitwicks pockets on fire. If the poor girl had lit his hat on fire, which countless others had done, I wouldn't be called Mason (I hope this was the girl's last name) by the third years. If only she hadn't lit the inside of his robes aflame… But it doesn't really bother me.

Lily Evans was the first person who talked to me. Oddly, she started by asking me if I actually set Flitwick's pockets on fire, and it just sort of evolved from there. Personality analysis: Lily is a kind, outgoing person, who made me feel welcome. She also filled me in on where everything was (well _tried _would be more accurate), who was where on the school ranks. Which I hadn't really appreciated fully until this spotty bloke from Hufflepuff asked me if I wanted to help "Polish his broom".

Lily and I are in Gryffindor, and unfortunately have to put up with the marauders. I now feel for the teachers like Binns who have to endure the paper airplanes sailing through him during the Bobbin war or whatever he was droning on about. But more so for the interruptions. Honestly, why can't people work in the library without having some random object hit her head, or her toad being zoomed around the book shelves?

We both dislike the marauders with a _pas_sion and actually had a discussion about why they were arrogant toe rags during breakfast not that long ago. McGonagall came up with her tight bun wishing to wag around, I could see the desire, as she walked and expressionless face and told me I was to report to the Headmasters office. I could see in her hard eyes she really wanted to just run naked through the hallways with her hair all streaming behind her and fly off the astronomy tower with a sinister cackle. But I got up Lily shrugged and told me she'd see me in charms. I waved her goodbye and set off with my books. After a few minuets I shrugged my anxiousness off, I wasn't like those people who start to panic when you get that sort of thing. Besides... what can you do? (You know, besides run away.) Dumbledore's a good guy, slightly off his rocker, but maybe he won't go all loony on me because I'm new.

Just as I was turning the corner, I ran into this brick wall. Well, not literally, because then it wouldn't be called a corner. I actually ran into the marauders, or a marauders, I didn't see who it was, but they didn't even step back. I stumbled backwards and landed hard on my arse with a grunt. My books went everywhere I looked up to see the cheeky grin of Sirius Black above me.

"Hey look Padfoot, she barely knows us and already she's throwing herself at our feet!"

_Arrogant, narcissistic, ignorant, lazy, stupid..._

I pride myself on witty replies such as: "Arg! I was_ not_!" I tried to ignore their laughter and my stop the blood rushing to my face as I gathered my books. Someone handed me my DADA essay and I looked up to see Remus smiling apologetically. I muttered thanks and stood with all my books and parchment hanging out of my arms at awkward angles.

I actually walk into people a lot, so most have learned to watch out when I walk, but these guys were bigger than me. As in taller, stronger, and broader shoulders (thank Merlin).

"_Hollander_," He pronounced it like, 'Haul-and-der'. "what're you going that way for? Charm's is _that _way." He looked all pitying and was shaking his head sadly, Sirius Black that is. He had a _look_ on his face. You know the ha-ha-she-fell-down-now-I'm-going-to-tease-her kind of look.

"Er, oh well, I'm just going to the headmaster's office." I said feeling awkward and clumsy next to the tall and casually graceful stances of the four. Well except Peter, who was just...er...Peter.

"Ooooh." Two chorused when I rolled my eyes and stalked down the corridor. "Goody two shoes got in _trouble..._" I didn't stop to find out who said it, though probably Peter, because he wasn't all that bright. They were such children, honestly.

As I was finishing my walk to the headmaster's office, I realized whenever the marauders were trying to get to know me, (interrogating me more like) Sirius was never there, so it was, basically, all Potter. It was just…that's just…weird, when I thought about it. And then I thought about when I turned behind a 'secret' passage way and saw him snogging a fifth year Ravenclaw, and it didn't seem all that odd. James had taken some sort of vow, to only snog Lily or something. So, when rejected, I figured he must need to vent, and would do so by having random duels or coming up with atrocious pranks. But then Lily would be to blame for my toad's mental scarring, but I'd rather not get on her bad side, so I won't discuss my theory with her.

When I got to the headmaster's office, Filtch was just leaving. Seriously, does that man ever wash? Arg. That hair. It makes me wonder why no one has jumped him with scissors...Alright well the ninja cat and moldy clothes might've, and the disease his spreads with every breath.

When I went in to his office I was asked to sit. "Miss Hollander," He acknowledged me with a deep nod and a smile while waving his wand to shut the drawer. I took a moment to take it all in, the room and the headmaster. The walls were covered in portraits of headmasters, headmistresses too, for all you feminists. All were dozing. This seemed odd since it was only morning, but then I thought of how old farts usually sleep forever and you have to pinch them every once in awhile to make sure they're still alive. At least I have to do that with my Granny, she just sits in her rocking chair, and when she's awake, she can be...quite...er...senile.

Professor Dumbledore had a fireplace with great flagstones, and little, brittle looking silver instruments with odd body shapes. Behind him were many, many books, some with dark, faded covers and others with big, bold script. On a perch, in the corner was a lovely bird with a mix of scarlet related plumage.

I grinned at him. "Is that...?"

He smiled back. "Yes, he is a phoenix. His name is Fawks." I watched the freaken, _legendary_ bird scratch its beak for a moment while he continued. "it appeared to me that we have not met yet, and I decided to take a moment when you were free to introduce myself. As you may already know, I am Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. I have heard you have made friends with Lily Evans."

I was taken aback and my sad little reply was; "Yeah..." and now that I look back on it, I realize how teenage that sounded. How sad is that? I can't even use proper English when talking to one of the greatest wizards ever.

He smiled all knowingly and nodded pleasantly. "You choose your friends wisely." I smiled back and he practically glowed. "I will assume she told you about our caretaker, Mr. Filtch, and that he will not tolerate any wandering the corridors at night." He looked ready to laugh, and I again started to wonder how sane he was, and why he called me here. "I suppose, you are wondering why you are here?" This guy was good. "You have then joined to countless others before you, who have often wondered the very same. However, why you are here in my office, is because I wanted to be sure you were adjusting well to the school environment. Most students find it hard, the first week here, but I think you'll find the quirks," I got the mental image of Peeves drenching me in ink the second day. "seem to grow on you."

His tone of voice seemed to tell me I was dismissed, and I stood to leave. "Er, thanks, have a good day." I said rather hurriedly and lamely with a glance backwards at the old man.

* * *

thanx sooo much to my beta who made this story the best i have read ever!! so u all know wat to do now!! press the little button that says review! plz? thanx a ton!! cookies for all of u! 

**Bold is ze beta typing. (straw...)(I AM ZE BETA. bwahahahahahaha. Plus I don't use netspeak. You know that thing that your teachers were always trying to tell you about 'voice' In your writing? Yeah well, try to imagine…er, nevermind.) **


End file.
